


Encountered an Error

by KimmyThain (KrystieT)



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2, Super Dangan Ronpa 2.5
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-19 15:44:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17004495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KrystieT/pseuds/KimmyThain
Summary: Day 43: Finished repair on location 2-9RW5D2. Scanning 58573 files. . .Program has encountered an error.





	Encountered an Error

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to give my many thanks to my beta-reader, Ochakuro! She was absolutely helpful in the process of writing and editing this work.
> 
> This was written for the Please Insert Coin Zine! It was my first time participating in a zine, and the mods and other contributors were simply amazing and extremely supportive!
> 
> Some time in the future, I would like to write an extended version of this work. I hope that I will be able to!

Hope’s Peak Academy… it was a place of many memories for him. He’d seen the walls inside countless times, and, if one were to blind him and place him at its front door, he’d still be able to navigate the halls with ease.

He knew every minute detail of that school, from the placement of the desks and chairs to every scratch on the floor. He was capable of recreating every single inch of it, even places he should never have access to, like the secret rooms and spaces designed for those of the opposite sex- all of these within his memory.

...

Of course, none of this was really from **his** ** _own_** memory.

**His** creator gave  **him** an image that mirrored closely to his own, and a mission: to wake up the 77th class, no matter what. To do so,  **he’d** entered deep into their minds. Memories played into  **his** surroundings, and faceless phantoms acted like actual people. The person then deformed said memories, purging all sadness, anguish, and pain away from their new,  _ blissful _ paradise.  **He** , in turn, inflicted more sadness, anguish, and pain in any way deemed fit. Some were easy to awaken from their dream; others took  _ many _ attempts.

Throughout it all,  **he** was given no name.  **He** was only given a title.

**He** was  **_The World Destroyer_ ** .

**His** creator never gave  **him** a name, nor was it imperative  **he** find  **himself** one. When  **his** mission to wake up all ten comatose students ended in success,  **his** creator gave him only one order before everyone left the islands: fix the Neo World Program.

**His** title as  _ the World Destroyer _ no longer fit  **his** new duties. Nameless and titleless,  **he** began  **his** work, starting with Hope’s Peak Academy.

Using the data  **he** had recorded from  **his** numerous psychodives,  **he** was able to completely recode Hope’s Peak Academy until it was an exact replica of the whole school. About 40 days after he started, the easier part of  **his** job was done, and  **he** stepped outside of the doors for the first time in a long while to assess the situation.

**He** walked to the bridge, and it teleported  **him** to the first island instead of the central one.  **He’d** encountered this bug numerous times within the virtual Hope’s Peak Academy, and from that experience,  **he’d** found it best to fix the floor before fixing the bug. Scanning his surroundings, there were only a few minor glitches here and there…. all things  **he** could fix with relative ease.

It was when **he** entered the hotel area that **he** encountered more glitches: layered blocks taking form as physical obstructions. Avoiding them, **he** intended to go up to the restaurant from the lobby, but when **he** opened the door, **he** received signals of a major unknown error. **He** immediately saw the source of the message.

There, in the middle of the lobby, stood a figure, back facing to  **him** . They glowed, fading in and out erratically. There were some parts of the figure missing entirely, and blocks of corruption floated around them. A blue hood hid their head, and their shoulders were hunched forward. The figure remained still as a statue as  **he** circled to their front.

**He** could now see that the figure was dressed in a girl’s high school uniform, the blue sweater covering a white blouse that was tucked neatly into a pleated tan skirt. In her hands was a game console, screen not even on. Pink hair poked out of the hood and framed the fair face. Eyes half-open, mouth agape, the girl stared at the screen. Not a single breath left her lips. It was as if she was merely an empty shell.

Even though  **he** had never met them,  **he** knew exactly who she was, or more accurately, who she was meant to be.  **His** creator had given  **him** digitized reports of the experience each survivor had within the Neo World Program, including descriptions of this person. Still, it would be better to gather more evidence, especially given the state she was in. It was  **his** duty to scan for errors to see if they could be fixed.

**He** brought  **his** hand out, emitting a horizontal line of light, and slowly brought it down from the top of her head to the floor. As suspected, the code was missing a lot of data. This was not a code for an avatar of a human, but a part of the system. One line of code confirmed it… this was the Observer.

“Hey hey…” a voice spoke. It had a mechanical echo with audible cracks, and was only  _ just  _ discernibly female.  **He** had turned away subconsciously when taking in the data and hadn’t seen the Observer become active again. The Observer was staring at  **him** through half-lidded eyes, her console now held in one hand hanging limp at her side.

Now with the Observer awake, the corruption became more active. The blocks moved like a swarm of flies around her, and she seemed to be fading in and out more sporadically.

The Observer blinked at  **him** slowly, likely processing the one in front of her. Then she closed her eyes.

“Oh… I’m sorry,” she murmured. “You reminded me of someone... I think.” She tilted her head to one side, then opened her eyes to gauge  **his** reaction.

“Who is it that I remind you of?”  **he** inquired. The Observer looked conflicted.

“I don’t… don’t… remember…” she stumbled. “No… no, that’s wrong… I can’t… can’t remember the  _ name _ .”  **He** took note of this, filing it into memory. More data had to be gathered.

“Do you remember who you are, then?”

“I’m Chiaki Nanami, the Ultimate Gamer,” she said with practiced confidence.

**He** continued  **his** investigation. “Do you remember where you are? What your role was?”

She broke eye contact with **him** and looked down, crossing her arms as best as she could with the controller still in her hand. “Yes,” she replied, slowly. “This is... the Neo World Program… and my role was... the Observer. My mission from Future Foundation was... to watch over the inhabitants of the program.”

“I see, so you were able to retain information about yourself,”  **he** stated. She nodded in response.

Before  **he** could further inquire about her memories, she interrupted  **him** .

“I feel like… I should trust you, but... who are you?” she asked, hesitantly.

**He** turned to the window and gestured to it.

“In a way, one could say I am like you,”  **he** replied. “I am an  _ alter ego _ created to be a part of the program and help in the rehabilitation process.”

“I can understand that…. I think,” she said after some time. “You weren’t created by Father though… right?”

“No, I was created by another,”  **he** turned to look back to her. “I was made to help wake up ten comatose individuals who had fallen in the program.”

At that, she gasped. “Are they okay? Are they all awake?!” she questioned enthusiastically.

“Yes, I was successful in my mission,”  **he** stated matter-of-factly. She smiled brightly at the news, hand over her chest as though calming a racing heart.

“Then I’m glad,” she smiled, graciously.

“Chiaki Nanami,”  **he** said, suddenly. She looked at him inquisitively in response. “You need not be concerned for the fates of the 77th class right now. They are awake, and it is likely they will be fine. The main concern, right now, is you.”  **He** pointed to her, specifically at the large hole on the left side of her chest.

Nanami looked down at herself, right hand clutching at her absent ‘heart,’ and stared blankly.

“Oh,” she said, softly. “This is like when Jared was told by Nell that he wasn’t actually human, and when he looks at himself, he sees that he’s a robot, just like Nell. Although, Jared was a lot more panicked about it then I am. I must have already known this somewhere in the back of my mind… probably.”

**He** didn’t understand who “Jared” and “Nell” were, but if  **he** was interpreting her analogy correctly, then…

“You mean to say, you didn’t notice the corruption until I pointed it out to you?”

Nanami nodded calmly in response.  **He** filed that down.

“Do you remember what may have caused this?” 

Nanami looked upwards, her left hand pointing to her lip, and hummed.

“... nope,” she concluded.

Her demeanor was too calm given her situation. Perhaps  **he** would have concluded that it was because she was also a program like  **him** , with no sense of self-preservation. But she seemed attached enough to her “human” nature, enough to identify herself as “Chiaki Nanami.” It was therefore likely there was another reason she wasn’t concerned with her current state.  **He** would need to investigate this more.

“Then may I ask you, what was your last memory?”

“... My ‘punishment,’” she said, calmly. “My sister and I were both executed by Monokuma. I don’t remember anything after that.”

“There is a low probability your execution is the cause of this corruption,”  **he** stated. “We have already found your sister, Usami. She is working with your older brother on another project. There were no signs of errors in her code.”

“I’m glad,” Nanami smiled in relief.

**He** closed  **his** eyes. “There is still the matter of the cause of your current state. You mentioned you were able to remember someone, but not their name.”

“That’s right.” She grabbed the elbow of the arm holding the console with her other hand and looked at the floor. “Actually… it’s not just him. I can remember Usami, and Monokuma, and I  _ can  _ remember all of them,” she revealed. “But, even though I remember what they looked like, I can’t remember their names, or what they sounded like, and I can’t- I don’t remember everything else I  _ should _ know about them. It’s… difficult to remember the things we did together in detail, even if I could tell you where we were and what we were doing.”

“Interesting,”  **he** said to himself.  **He** now had a theory of what happened to her. When  **he** opened  **his** eyes again to tell her his predictions,  **he** halted.

The blocks around Nanami, which had been moving erratically since she reactivated, seemed to freeze in place. She was just barely visible now, making her even harder to see in the dark room. She’d dropped her controller, arms wrapping around herself, and her eyes looked-

“I can help you remember them,”  **he** said without even thinking. Nanami snapped to attention, but didn’t seem to fully comprehend. She slowly blinked at him, humming questioningly.

**He** weighed  **his** options.  **He** already had enough of an idea to begin fixing her code. There was no reason for her to  _ remember _ the details, either. If things went well, she may be able to meet the 77th class once more. Logically speaking, there was no need to help her remember them at this point… yet still…

**He** made a decision.

“I can help you remember their names,”  **he** began. “My mission to wake up the members of the 77th class who fell into a comatose state involved me performing psychodives and interacting with their dream selves. My programming does not allow me to reveal what happened in the psychodives. However, if you are able to describe them sufficiently enough, I can match those descriptions to a name.”

As  **he** spoke, her expression slowly shifted from confusion to excitement.

She closed her hands into fists and brought them close to her, leaning forward into  **his** personal space as she exclaimed, “You can really help me remember them?!”

**He** closed  **his** eyes, pushing her away gently, and took a step back.

**He** motioned her towards the couch, and she smiled graciously.

As they walked and sat on the couch, conflict continued to stir in **his** mind. Seeing her so enthusiastic about  **his** proposal made  **him** feel like  **he** was doing the right thing even if it was likely more of a setback to  **his** mission. There hadn’t been conflict like this in  **his** previous mission... Was there something different about this situation? The lack of urgency to  **his** current orders? Or perhaps it was…

Now seated,  **he** turned towards her, and she was still softly beaming at  **him** .  **He** closed  **his** eyes and took in a breath. Perhaps this was the right decision, in the end.

“Who do you wish to start with?”


End file.
